


i have loved you since we were eighteen

by bellawritess



Series: malum prompts [18]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Based on a One Direction Song, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, I think just one, M/M, Rating for Language, References to Alcohol, Songfic, YEAHHHHHHHHHH BUDDY, just insane amounts of fluff i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: “I loved you so much,” Calum says, apropos of nothing, more of a sigh than a sentence. Michael bites his lip. “I mean, I love you so much now. I love you more. Every day I love you more, but.” He laughs a bit. “I can’t believe how much I loved you then.”
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: malum prompts [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026381
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	i have loved you since we were eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt:** 18 by one direction
> 
> [tumblr link!](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/633343850429267968/official-song-prompt-request-for-18-for-malum-sad)
> 
> title from 18 by one direction
> 
> tw for brief mentions of alcohol

“Remember Ms. Thompson?”

Michael glances over at Calum, but Calum’s looking at the ceiling. “Uh, vaguely,” he says. “What was that, year…nine? Eight?”

“Something like that,” Calum says. “Doesn’t that feel like forever ago?”

“Why are you thinking about Ms. Thompson? Missing English class?” Michael teases. He shifts closer to Calum on the bed and leans his head onto Calum’s shoulder, and Calum, as if unconsciously, adjusts his posture to accommodate Michael, lifting one arm to drape it over Michael’s shoulders. They fit so well, Michael thinks; Calum’s arms seem made to hold Michael, his shoulder sculpted to be most comfortable for Michael to rest his head. 

In front of them, on Michael’s laptop, season five of _Black Mirror_ continues to play. They’re not too far into this episode — Michael’s pretty sure it’s the last of the series — and Miley Cyrus has just showed up, but it sounds like he and Calum are heading towards a conversation, so Michael pauses it.

“Just thinkin’,” Calum says. “Musing. You know.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself.”

Calum elbows him. “You never think about school?”

Michael shrugs. “Not much to think about, is there? It’s not like I made incredible memories there or anything.”

Calum frowns and turns to him. “We met in school.”

“Obviously other than that,” Michael says, rolling his eyes. “What’s with the nostalgia?”

“I liked you better when you were younger,” Calum says, scowling. “You were less of a dick.”

“That’s so not true. I was _way_ more of a dick.”

Calum chuckles. “Okay. You were. But so was I.”

“It’s almost like we’ve grown and matured or something,” Michael says, faux-gasping. “Mad, I know.”

“I loved you so much,” Calum says, apropos of nothing, more of a sigh than a sentence. Michael bites his lip. “I mean, I love you so much now. I love you more. Every day I love you more, but.” He laughs a bit. “I can’t believe how much I loved you then.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmurs. “Me too.” He really can’t believe it, because thinking back on it, there hadn’t ever been a time when he hadn’t loved Calum, when he hadn’t been so head-over-heels in love with Calum. He’d previously thought it impossible to expand upon something infinite, and yet ever since meeting Calum he’s been doing it; no matter how much space Calum fills in Michael’s heart, every day he takes up more.

“Really?” Calum says, surprising Michael.

“What do you mean, really?”

“You loved me? When we were, like, eighteen?”

Michael frowns. “Of course I did.”

“I mean, you know what I mean. You were _in_ love with me.”

“Yes,” Michael says slowly. “Is that a surprise?”

“Yes.” Calum reaches with his right hand for Michael’s left, linking their fingers where they rest on Calum’s thigh. “I thought it was more recent.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t know, I mean, not _that_ recent, I just didn’t realize we felt the same thing at the same time.” Calum snorts. “We should’ve gotten our shit together sooner.”

They certainly had taken their time. But, Michael thinks, it’s not really as if they missed out on much. Sure, the kissing and the love confessions, but apart from that, he and Calum had always been together in every way that mattered. They’d snuck out at night to go and sit on the swings of the nearby playground and talk about lives they never anticipated living, or lie in the mulch and watch the way the clouds would conceal the constellations, trading secrets like currency, as if enough of them might buy them a ticket out of town — just the two of them against the world. They’d spent lazy post-sleepover mornings of December having tea on the couch, watching Christmas movies and imagining that one day they’d be in the foreign, distant lands of America, where Christmas meant snow, sweaters and hats and scarves, Calum jokingly promising that if Michael’s hands got cold he could always hold Calum’s. They’d gotten drunk on rainy Saturday evenings and spent hours just wandering the neighborhood, leaning heavily against each other not because they were worried about falling down but because — because Calum had always been the center of Michael’s world, and with all his inhibitions gone, Michael had always gravitated towards Calum, and he couldn’t see a single reason not to succumb to the pull.

“Well, we’ve got our shit together now,” Michael says, sitting up and turning to Calum. There’s an easy smile on Calum’s lips, corners of his mouth turned upward. Once again Michael challenges the impossible. Sitting here, looking at Calum, he’s never been more in love than he is right now. “Give us a little credit. We didn’t take _too_ long.”

Calum hums, bringing both hands up to Michael’s face, palms pressed to his cheeks. He rests his forehead against Michael’s. “I just feel like we lost so much time. So much time we could have spent kissing.” He giggles. “I’m going to spend my whole life trying to catch up.”

Michael’s breath catches at that, the suggestion that this is going to last their whole life, that Calum will be the bookends to Michael’s adulthood, from his first legal drink to his last words. “I hope you do,” he says quietly, feeling the heat of his exhale where it reflects off Calum’s face. “That sounds like a dream to me.”

“So do I,” Calum murmurs. “God, I’m lucky.”

Michael smoothes his palms over Calum’s waist and links his fingers together against the small of his back. “Not as lucky as me,” he says. He opens his mouth to add that he loves Calum, a broken record because when it comes to Calum everything he’s ever said has all just been code for _I love you_ , but Calum presses forward and kisses him instead, so Michael swallows it down and returns the kiss, the taste of Calum settling itself familiarly on Michael’s tongue. 

He’s probably kissed other people, sure that at some point before he and Calum worked it out there must have been other people — Calum hadn’t been his first kiss, after all — but he can’t remember them. Calum’s the only one who matters, the only person Michael’s ever bothered to map out with his hands, the only kiss Michael’s cared to come back to.

Maybe what Michael calls love, other people would call tunnel vision, but Michael feels entitled either way. He’ll always give as good as he gets, and Calum loves Michael so hard that Michael has no choice but to do the same. He feels certain that nobody in the world has ever been the object of Calum’s affections the way he is, and nobody else could get it, that when Calum loves he throws his whole self into it. It’s not just that Michael feels obliged to return it; he _wants_ to, to absorb the adoration and reflect it back at Calum like a mirror.

When Calum pulls away he hovers close, still holding Michael’s face. “I love you,” he breathes, beating Michael to it.

“I know,” Michael says, not to be funny. He really does know. It’s in their pulses, the three beating syllables that keep them alive, and when Michael presses a hand to Calum’s heart he can feel it under his palm, _I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you_. Michael’s heart beats only love for Calum, and he knows that Calum’s does the same. Still, it bears repeating. “I love you too.”

“I know,” Calum says, with that easy smile. “I’ve loved you since forever.”

“You can’t have.” (Except Michael has.)

“Since we met.”

“Can’t have then, either. We didn’t know what love was until we were, like, eighteen. We were kids. Kids don’t know about love.”

Calum shakes his head. Michael’s teasing, but Calum is letting him. “Since we were eighteen, then. I’ve loved you my entire adult life, and I’ll love you for the rest of it.”

“That’s more like it,” Michael says, with a matching smile. “And every day I love you more.”

“Enough,” Calum says. “Too much talking, not enough kissing.”

Michael breathes a laugh and bridges the gap between them. The kiss just means what they’d been saying, anyway, but Michael’s happy to tell Calum like this, or any way he can. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hey!


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